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Yuzu, My Sunshine

This citrus, ripe in BC’s winter holidays, hits the sweet spot between taste and hardiness.

andrea bennett 26 Dec 2022TheTyee.ca

andrea bennett is managing editor of The Tyee.

When I first moved to Ayjoo Mixw, the area currently known as Westview in Powell River where I now live, I could garden in a grassy yard for the first time in decades.

My partner Will has always been great at nurturing indoor plants. But since the opportunity hadn’t presented itself until now, he was a bit surprised to learn that I, too, was interested in what we’d come to refer to as the “Less grass, more garden” project.

Will’s interests include cacti, succulents, trees and shrubs. I like to grow things that I can eat, and things that support things I can eat, such as pollinator plants that bring bees and other insects to our yard.

But our desires do sometimes overlap. For example: did you know you can grow citrus trees in B.C.?

My first purchase was a yuzu tree, a hardy variety of citrus that withstands coastal B.C. winters, especially when kept in a greenhouse. Originally developed in central China, yuzu is now quite popular in culinary applications in Japan.

“I find a lot of plants that do well in certain parts of Japan do well here,” Peter Janes, owner/operator of TreeEater Nursery on Denman Island, tells me during a phone conversation.

“Citrus is a spectrum,” he adds. “A lot of people will try to grow lemons and limes, and then they’ll die as soon as the cold comes.”

“The hardiest plants have the most sour and bitterest fruit. Flying dragon is hardy until about -20 C. But the fruit is small, sour, bitter and not super edible. In my experience, yuzu is in middle of the spectrum — yummy but hardy.”

Janes has planted his yuzu in the ground, in a greenhouse, where it’s thriving.

A very lush and leafy yuzu tree is planted in the ground in a greenhouse. It is covered by black landscaping fabric.
Peter Janes’s yuzu tree, planted in the ground in his greenhouse. Photo submitted.

Janes says that if you don’t have a greenhouse, a yuzu will most likely survive planted close to a building, in well-drained soil, somewhere it’s sheltered from winter winds (and, I’d add, benefits from the ambient heat given off by buildings).

If you live in an apartment building, a yuzu will mostly likely survive potted and tucked next to the building. In cold snaps, you can string up some Christmas lights to turn on at night and add a bit of welcome warmth.

(The tree will not enjoy an indoor winter, Janes points out. Yuzus enjoy moisture, a condition most of us are attempting to avoid in our homes.)

We keep our yuzu potted. It lives outdoors in the summer, and in Will’s hoophouse in the winter. Will tends to it — keeping it disease and pest-free, watering and fertilizing, and, every couple years, root pruning it and changing up its soil.

My job is to harvest its fruits and use them in dinners and baked goods. They have more seeds, and their flavour is slightly more complex than your average lemon or lime.

For the New Yorker, Helen Rosner, who received a “priceless gift” of yuzus from a friend, describes them thus: “more floral than an orange and nearly as tart as a lime, with a scent that is dense and disarming, the Froot-Loops-y honey of a lemon blossom wrapped around an astringent armature of industrial floor cleaner (which is somehow exquisite), then magnified tenfold, then mailed to the moon.”

I can’t improve upon the New Yorker. But while Rosner opted to make citrus koshō, a salty and spicy flavour enhancer used in Japanese cuisine (and allowed the rest of her yuzu gift to go mouldy in her crisper drawer), I opted for what we could generously refer to as “fusion” cuisine: yuzu curd pie.

On the left, a yuzu tree with white and yellow flowers. On the right, two green yuzu fruits at the end of a spiky branch.
Yuzu flowers, left, are nature’s best perfume (they smell amazing). Yuzu fruits, right, start off dark green and turn yellow as they ripen.

Yuzus, like most citrus, come into season in the late fall and early winter here in B.C. I picked my first-ever satsumas from a new-this-year tree in mid-November; my yuzus were ready to go by mid-December.

The timing of citrus ripening in the northern hemisphere makes their fruits perfect for holiday treats — and is probably why many of my fondest Christmas memories revolve around some combination of orange and chocolate.

With his yuzu, Janes has made candied yuzu, and citrus koshō, and “salted them, Persian-style,” for use in cooking, such as with lamb.

These are all great ideas. To them, I add this recipe for pie.

Yuzu curd pie

Time:

Prep and baking takes from an hour and 10 minutes to an hour and a half; the pie needs to chill at least four hours, but preferably overnight in the fridge.

Tools:

Substitutions:

I don’t like pastry all that much, so I opt for a graham crumb crust here. You could easily crush ginger biscuits instead of graham crackers, or substitute your favourite pastry crust — a shortcrust pastry case could be nice. If you, like me, are using gluten-free graham crumbs, it can really help to toss a couple tablespoons of oat flour in with the crumbs to help everything stick together nicely.

Ingredients:

Graham cracker crust

Yuzu curd

Meringue

Directions:

* Note: It’s easier to separate eggs when they’re cold and allow them to come to room temperature separated.


Happy holidays, readers. Our comment threads will be closed from Friday, Dec. 23 until Tuesday, Jan. 3 to give our moderators a well-deserved break. See you in 2023!  [Tyee]

Read more: Food, Environment

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